Love Inspired August 2014 – Bundle 1 of 2 (6 page)

She looked up. Saw his intent. Surprise faded to understanding and she squeezed his
fingers lightly. “Go ahead.”

He wanted to thank God for her. For this moment, this chance to set things right after
too much time gone by. Would that embarrass her?

Maybe. He kept it short and sweet instead, but his heart rounded out the quick prayer.
“God, thank You for this food. For the chance to be together, and Lord, we ask You
to help us be the friends this gelding truly needs. To anticipate his needs until
he feels safe and beloved once more. Amen.”

She didn’t let go of his hand straightaway, and that tiny measure of trust made him
feel better. She held his gaze, her blue eyes almost misty, then smiled. “Thank you,
Jack. That was lovely.”

“You’re lovely,” he told her, letting his grin say the rest. “Let’s see how lovely
you stay while eating a big, sloppy ol’ burger.”

She popped down the hinge of his glove compartment to use as a miniature table, but
the dust dissuaded her. She puffed it away, waved her hand and sent him a look that
said he should clean the truck more often.

“I’ll clean it this week. Promise. You know how bad the dust gets in July and August.
And there’s no keeping it out of the truck when I wear it into the truck multiple
times a day.”

“I hear you, cowboy. And a little dust ain’t never been no big thing in these here
parts,” she drawled, teasing. “The fact that I’m sitting here about to eat one of
the best burgers in all of Montana has me too happy to care.” She followed that by
taking her first bite, laughing when condiments slid one way while her burger seemed
determined to go the other.

Too happy to care.

Her words brightened everything about the day. Words he reflected inside, a new joy
taking hold, simply by spending a day with Livvie Franklin by his side. Talking horse,
chatting baseball. Stealing quick, sideways glances.

Oh, yeah. Her words held true for both of them. Tucked inside the truck, angled so
the horse trailer caught the shade from a broad, old maple tree while he and Liv roasted
in the hot August sun?

Yup. Like Liv, he was too happy to care. And that felt better than he’d felt in a
long time.

Chapter Five

L
iv’s conscience scolded nonstop the next day. If her brain was an iTune, she’d press
Pause and move on, but the common-sense mental directives made her question her quick
decisions at the livestock sale. By midday she had the downstairs polished, and headed
to town to mosey around the library archives for a change of scenery. Chauncey Hardman
took it upon herself to open the library for a few hours every Sunday afternoon, and
there were times when getting lost in research could prove beneficial. She hoped that
method worked today. Then she’d face a late-day dinner at the ranch with Jack, Coach
and the horses. Hanging with Jack yesterday, she remembered how much she loved all
three.

She turned down Shaw Boulevard, angled into the library lot and parked alongside a
metallic blue hybrid, a sweet ride that said “money” despite its diminutive size.
For just a moment Liv considered moving her worn, red Neon to the other side of the
narrow lot, but that might insult the trusty old car, so she gave the slightly dented
trunk a pat and a promise of a car wash as she headed inside.

The one-story library had little seating, but that didn’t matter today. Liv turned
to the right, down a short hall, and straight into the history section of the converted
ranch-style house, a small space that had probably been a bedroom at one time. The
square room now housed all historical nonfiction on one wall and fiction on the other.
Chauncey had her own way of doing things and since the Hardmans had bequeathed their
house to the library thirty-five years before, no one was about to argue with the
stout middle-aged librarian.

“Oh. Hey. Sorry.”

A slim woman with long blond hair swung around as Liv drew up short.

Liv made a face and tapped the doorway. “Didn’t see you with the turn and there’s
never anyone back here when I come in to work. Hi.”

The other woman smiled and swept the small room a look of understanding. “It’s kind
of fun and odd how small this is, isn’t it?” She extended her hand and said, “I’m
Robin Frazier. I’m staying in town for a little while and I love to check out old
stuff.”

“Then you’ve come to the right room,” Liv noted. As she grasped Robin’s offered hand,
her gaze fell on the leather-bound document spread out on the table behind Robin.
“The Shaw history. I was going through that myself the other day. Find anything interesting?”

“Not much.”

The woman looked almost disappointed, as if she’d been hoping to find some deep dark
secret hidden in the old parchment papers. Livvie was pretty sure that if such a thing
existed, Jackson Shaw would have prettied it up—or excised it. Jackson had a way of
gilding things with his own special spin, not a quality Liv admired, especially from
a historical perspective. How could people learn from the mistakes of a spit-shined
past that didn’t reflect reality? “Were you looking for something specific?”

“No.” Robin answered too quickly, but before Liv could wonder at her speedy response,
she went on, “I’m working on my degree and doing a thesis on genealogy. Documenting
family histories is part of the process.”

“I love history, fact and fiction,” Liv admitted. “Austen, Brontë, Alcott. I look
at the early women novelists and there’s a part of me that wishes I could see romance
and life the way they did.”

Robin laughed out loud. “Washing clothes in wooden tubs and wringing them out by hand
while stringing green beans into ‘leather britches’?”

“Those images do take the sheen off the romance,” Liv admitted. She was about to say
something else, when Chauncey stepped into the room, a hand braced on one broad hip
while her other held a pointer finger to her lips.

“A library, ladies, not a coffee shop. Whisper, please.”

Liv peeked around the corner, then faced Chauncey. “But there’s no one else here,
Mrs. Hardman.”

“That doesn’t mean someone couldn’t walk in that door at any moment, young lady. Rules
are rules.” She waggled two thick eyebrows at the younger women, and while she didn’t
look exactly displeased, Liv was pretty sure her demeanor meant “conversation: over.”
She turned to face Robin again. “Do you want to talk about the Jasper Gulch history
some more? The diner’s open around the corner.”

“I’d love it.” Robin began to hoist the heavy history volume, but Chauncey tsk-tsked
that idea.

“I’ll do it, I’ve got it, don’t trouble yourself. These old volumes take a special
touch.” She clapped the book shut and placed it on the shelf with a firm thump that
meant business. “Anytime you need one of those specials, you ring me. I’ll be glad
to get it for you. If I’m not busy, of course.”

“Of course.” Robin smiled at the older woman and didn’t seem put off by Chauncey’s
gruff manner. “Lovers of history must stick together.”

Chauncey beamed a smile on her that included Liv as they moved to the door, and Liv
was pretty sure she’d taken a firm step up in the librarian’s estimation, just because
Robin smiled at the right time. A good lesson to learn when dealing with die-hard
residents of Jasper Gulch. And not such a difficult one to follow.

“Should we drive over or leave the cars here?” Robin wondered as they moved down the
three steps to the short sidewalk linking the asphalt lot to the Western-style library.

“We can leave them. It’s hot, but it’s a short walk. Oh.” Liv followed the direction
of Robin’s gaze to the long chain wrapped around a thick, metal pole at the parking
lot entrance. “You think Chauncey’s going to close that gate, right?”

“I assumed so, at closing time. I take it she’s not going to do that?”

Liv grinned and set off for Main Street, and as they passed the chain she pointed
north. “Chauncey Hardman only closes this parking lot during the rodeo and round-up
weekends. She says she won’t have any foul beasts contaminating her lot with their
droppings so when there are horses and trailers moving around the business district,
Chauncey puts up her chain.”

“But it’s asphalt.” Robin looked at the small lot and then back to Liv. “Couldn’t
it just be rinsed off with a hose? Horses are a part of life in Jasper Gulch, right?”

“As much as anything else, yes. But Chauncey’s mother rode off with a rodeo rider
about fifty years ago and never looked back. Chauncey’s had nothing to do with horses
ever since.”

“But she stayed.” Robin’s expression said something didn’t compute. “She stayed in
a place that’s surrounded by horses and cattle ranches. That doesn’t make sense.”

“It does if you love Big Sky country. And Chauncey Hardman, for all her idiosyncrasies,
loves Montana, heart and soul. She does the greatest history exhibit in the fall and
a living-history pageant every spring in the park. I think I fell in love with history
listening to Chauncey weave stories when I was a kid, but I know better than to ask
her about horses...”

“Duly noted,” Robin said with a laugh.

“And to talk in her library.”

“Lesson learned.” Robin followed Liv into the old-style cross-buck door of Great Gulch
Grub, the hometown café. Empty tables filled the middle with the lunch crowd long
gone, while booths lined the outer walls. They settled into a booth close to the short
counter. Robin sat back and swept the retro-Western interior a look of appreciation.
“Every time I stop in here, I feel like I’m walking onto a movie set. The punched-tin
ceiling, the wagon-wheel lights, the old, worn floor.”

“And I love that fifty-plus years of wipe-downs has dulled the finish on half of the
tables. I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Liv smiled as the middle-aged daytime waitress
swaggered their way. “Mert, I’d love a coffee, and if you put a shot of caramel in
it, I’d die happy.”

“With Granny’s fresh rice pudding?” Mert wondered.

“Rice, milk, eggs...” Liv pretended to ponder. “That sounds healthy to me. Robin,
you won’t be sorry if you order the rice pudding, it’s an old family recipe that no
one shares—”

Mert tapped the worn tabletop with a bright blue freshly polished fingernail. “If
everybody and his brother has the recipe, why in the name of Sam Hill would they come
here to get it? Business savvy.” She bestowed a humor-filled look of wisdom to Robin
and Liv, then nodded Robin’s way. “And you like your coffee without the froufrou stuff
Livvie asks for and I expect Granny’s fresh peach pie would sit right for a Sunday
afternoon.”

“With vanilla ice cream, I’m a happy woman,” declared Robin.

“You’re in here fairly often, then.” Liv turned her attention back to Robin and jerked
a thumb toward Mert’s retreating back. “To have Mert know your likes.”

“Well, she’s smart as a whip and I figured that out the first day in.” Robin nodded
to an older fellow who passed their table on his way out. “And she likes her customers
happy. I found that to be true with a lot of the folks in this town.”

“But not all.”

Robin gave Liv a look of consideration, then shrugged. “I haven’t been here long enough
to have opinions, not really.”

Liv snorted because Jasper Gulch was great, but like any small town, it had its share
of snippy folks.

Robin acknowledged the sound with a smile and a nod. “Okay, there are a few interesting
characters, but mostly folks are charming. And totally Western. I didn’t realize how
different things were here until I got here.”

Liv considered her words, thought a moment, then asked, “Didn’t realize? Like you
knew about Jasper Gulch before you came? But we’re not big enough or notable enough
to bring folks in unless they’re fishing or hunting, Robin. And you’re not here to
do either. And it’s not like our history here is core-curriculum stuff. We weren’t
on any cutting edge of anything historical and we’ve stayed small, except for the
size of the ranches, and pretty much unchanged and to ourselves for generations. So
having you come here, curious about history, kind of makes me curious about you.”

Robin’s face said one thing. Her words? Quite another. “I had stuff I needed to get
away from. Nothing hugely bad, just stuff. I wanted to head west, see how things work
here, and maybe find the roots my family lost a long time ago. I got here just in
time for the rodeo, but then the huge celebration for the time capsule turned into
a complete bust because it was stolen. And then someone intentionally started a fire
at the rodeo. Even though it got caught quickly and put out, that made me wonder what
kind of town Jasper Gulch really is.”

“Usually good, quiet and peaceful,” Liv declared. “I don’t think anyone remembers
a time when you couldn’t just do as you would, doors unlocked. Right now folks are
worried. You can see that in their faces. As to the past?” She shrugged. “A lot of
folks stopped here then moved on. The mountains are tough for some, there was little
in the way of business opportunity because the town avoided change, and water rights
make everybody a little crazy. So we’ve had our share of folks who leave in search
of easier ways. But having said all that....” Liv leaned back and waved toward the
wide double windows facing Main Street. “I fell in love with Jasper Gulch all over
again when I came back nearly two weeks ago. I didn’t fully appreciate what a great
place this was until I got a taste of other things. Now I have to weigh all that up.”
Liv reached up and accepted her caramel coffee from Mert with a smile of thanks. “With
jobs scarce and not much new, I have no idea if there’s a plausible reason for staying
here.”

“I can think of one available cowboy who could help you with that dilemma, Liv Franklin.
But I don’t expect you’ll be wantin’ advice in that particular arena.”

“Thank you, no.” Liv sent Mert a look that said her assumption was spot-on. “Single
and staying that way is my current mantra.”

“Time’s got a way of changin’ those mantra things when we least expect it,” Mert advised.
She gave a knowing look out the front door as a Shaw truck rumbled past, and when
she looked back at Liv, her smile smacked of wisdom. “When Julie Shaw came strollin’
in here last month, leadin’ that rodeo cowboy around like a ring-nosed bull, I knew
right off where that pair was headed. Straight to the altar, and I’m rarely wrong
about things like that after livin’ in these parts for my share of decades. But you
take your time, Livvie. Jack McGuire’s not goin’ anywhere. Not with those new horses
you and he bought yesterday.”

And there it was, the single most important reason for hightailing it out of Jasper
Gulch and burying herself in another city.

Everyone here knew about her and Jack and everyone and their mother expected them
to form some kind of Hollywood movie-set bond because they both happened to be back
in town at the same time. Single. Loving horses. And a little nostalgic with her biological
clock ticking away.

Robin straightened her shoulders and perked up. “Is Jack cute? And nice? And a churchgoer?
Because if Liv’s not in the market for a smokin’-hot cowboy, I sure am.”

Liv burst out laughing. So did Mert. And Robin looked pleased with herself for easing
Liv’s growing tension. “I’m going to warn you off, but not because I have any designs
on Jack myself.”

Mert snorted as she dished up a very generous helping of ice cream to Robin’s peach
pie on her side of the counter.

“But because it would be real nice to be able to have a conversation with one person
in this town—” Liv raised her voice just enough for Mert to hear and appreciate in
the otherwise empty restaurant “—that doesn’t play matchmaker with me and Jack McGuire.”

“We could make a pact.”

The distinctly male voice behind Liv made her heart crunch and her pulse spike. “Where
did you come from? Because you weren’t behind me a minute ago.”

Jack tipped his hat to Robin, squatted low and eyed the rice pudding Mert set down
in front of Liv, and his grin widened when Mert used a little more gusto than necessary
to top the pudding with thick whipped cream. “You’re not spoiling your appetite for
supper, are you?”